Friday, May 5, 2017

Elixirs of Entrepreneurship: The Emperor and I The legacy of Anthony Sabga with Journalism at death’s door RIP

If the vision, the humility, the warmth, the charm, the patriotism and the passion as a pioneer extraordinaire and all the superlatives on the breadth and depth and scope of Anthony N Sabga (1923 to 2017) unfolding with his passing, could be captured, distilled, processed and bottled as a product for mass consumption, what a coveted elixir of entrepreneurship that would be!
And what a new-age asset would it be to the inheritors of the empire that Mr Sabga built on this archipelago of islands, out of the rubble and from the trauma of fleeing as a child Syrian immigrant, with his family from the still resonating crises of cultural accommodation in Syria, Palestine and the Middle East today!
That neither our society, nor his amalgam of companies that include cement, block-building or other factories have yet found ways of morphing into a commodity of high commercial import these subliminal esoteric characteristics and experiences that make up the fine qualities of personality and business acumen that define the likes of Anthony N Sabga, suggests that we may be in our state of social degeneration and recession for some time yet.
Would it not be the crowning glory to a life of superlative successes to generate from his experiences such elixir as a byproduct of all that he has done with his life, to distill, process, package and replicate in mass production within and across our range of social, cultural, economic and political institutions and organisations?
Wouldn’t that be an exceptional product of immense profitability by the inheritors of his empire, and social capital of immeasurable value that can serve, like the epoxy, glue or cement (produced by some of his companies) rather than the agents of abrasion (like those products for household or industrial use also produced by some his companies)?  
The incapacity to reproduce his elixir, may well be his singular regret, as it could be our lament, as we come to bury and to praise Anthony N Sabga with his death in this island on World Press Freedom Day, March 3 2017, just short of a century since his birth across the seas and continents in Syria.
I was able to briefly partake of this elixir and an up-close-and-personal glimpse of the manner of the man when Mr Sabga invited me to sit with him in a one-on-one, tete-a-tete, which evolved into another and a few more sessions thereafter, to discuss the future of journalism and media and of course some pertinent elements of the media branch of his empire.
The insights from these encounters immediately dispelled the image of the megalomaniacal monster that rears its ominous shadow whenever his name surfaces in the same breath as considerations on media freedom. As much as that may jar at the widely-held notions of the name ‘Sabga’ in the context of ‘media’, that’s my story and I am sticking to it, though others may hold alternative facts to dispute such a claim in a media world that has moved beyond "Lies, Half Truths and Innuendos" to its own 'post-truths.'   
The winds of change were already blowing around conventional media. The acute businessman may have already whiffed the waning of the glory days of conventional media, which the local media world was interpreting as rejection of the broadsheet. But misinterpreting the value of form over content has been the bane of media management, perhaps everywhere.
This at a time when the media world on the universal scale as much as in a small island is no less in flux than almost every one of the other traditional pillars of society, and wrangling with the age-old tensions between profit motive and that of media freedoms from encumbrances that weigh down its functions as an agent of social edification and enlightenment.
Mr Sabga invites and graciously welcomes me to his office and offers me my choice of tea, which I accept.
“I do not interfere in the operations,” he blurts out as we settle into conversation. I took that as a reference to the newspaper and radio stations that form the media element of his conglomerate. I am surprised for I had said nothing to provoke or evoke such a declaration, but I could sense that he understood it is the most incisive wound on his brand, inflicted in no small measure by this entity that should be the flag bearer of branding his empire and his entrepreneurship.
He is setting the stage.
Apart from the occasional corporate Christmas lunch or dinner I have never had cause to interface with the emperor, and all such albeit brief encounters were cordial.
For my own part, in my years of association with the media entities under his entrepreneurship, I experienced no direct interface nor ‘interference’ from him in relation to my editorial duties. Whether he wielded his influence and power through the given channels of his management structure is only a matter of speculation, as I treated such pressures as par for the course and in the manner any editor focused on the mandate for generating credible journalistic content would treat with undue attempts at editorial interference, without the cry of ‘havoc’, pounding on the gong and alerting the town crier that might have been the modus operandi of others similarly placed.  
At our tetes-a-tetes, he is keen on conveying that money is no problem before sharing his eagerness to explore what may be done to enhance journalism and indeed this branch of the empire.
Before him is a proposal from the Guardian Board - a plan for some new directions for the media entity and he seems to want to hear my opinion and share some of his own ideas on the same.
Occupational hazards
I am the sitting editor of the Sunday Guardian, newly celebrated as the only sitting journalist to have completed a PhD in the highly-stressed environment and daily grind of newspaper production – celebrated by many, except, it seems, the powers that be, whom, I was told, spent an inordinate amount of time discussing where could I have gotten the time or energies to pursue a doctorate while producing the Sunday paper and its aligned publications and its related duties. Their concern was not how this may be harnessed by the organization for advantage of the society being served, but the potential impact such aspirations to higher education might have in raising the bar for other journalists who may wish to so aspire. Yes, they were concerned, it seems, not jubilant, that there would be implications on expectations – i.e. for example, higher salaries - that will negatively impact their profit line. The idea of more journalists reaching for higher education and lifting the society's expectations of itself can surely put a damper on any thoughts of celebration! 
I completed the doctorate thesis only because of the pile of research on the topic I had been accumulating simply out of personal knowledge quest into the history of journalism and literature that was to that time unexplored territory. Perhaps it seemed as no easy feat in a work environment which pays little heed to research, nor to education nor development of its human resources. As editor of the Sunday Guardian, with limited staff and resources, there were many days in which I was sourcing and writing the lead and other story on virtually every page while performing other administrative, management and editorial functions of the office, while pursing studies.
It is well known that the high-stressed environment of journalism is one that drives its functionaries to not to higher learning, but to drink and other escapades. Pancho’s bar just next door to the Guardian offices has become an establishment of historic note in its service to journalism in this regard and is deserving of an award for its role in stress relief. Studies have shown that journalists are among the most at risk for such stress-relief options, among others. That one would seek to redirect such stress into some other pursuit as education must be a baffling to the corporate mind.
Believe it or not, this position of the powers would be patiently explained to me as a rational and pragmatic consideration, in its view, rather than consideration of how the potential ricochet effect of a better-educated human resource might benefit the readership and society being served.
I pointed out that the company was investing heavily in new equipment to facilitate production of its proposed tabloid – perhaps influenced by Mr Sabga’s own entry into the business of media through selling printing presses and training for their uses across the Caribbean. That helped expand the regional printing industry, elements of which I map in the research contained in my book Finding A Place, which is drawn from my doctoral thesis.
While the powers huffed and puffed discontent, across town the managing editor of a rival newspaper was weekly waving copies of our Sunday edition as examples of attention-gripping content in news and feature, page after page.
The constant need to assert the newspaper as a product that is judged not on its advertising but by the articles it contains and the battle for editorial space, not to mention the challenge of finding the mental and emotional space required to deliver quality journalism in amidst the constant tug-of-war takes its toll. These are not among the media industry's list of occupational health and safety hazards, nor are their regulations of employers' humanistic handling of the same. That and the eternal wrangle for appreciation of the need to balance the profit motive and the public expectation of media as an influence on the minds of men and women and agent of acculturation, social condition, social transformation and social change, makes it among the most challenges of professions.
Content-driven journalism seemed to the controlling powers an old concept of journalism at death’s door, yet it is the axis of the new media environment fully accourant with how content drives advertising, well-proven by the likes of #Google and #Facebook and #Twitter and #Instagram and #Snapchat and the range of new and trending media – elements of outreach success with which our environment is still struggling to come to grips.
It was largely to allow myself flexibility and to avoid the constant wrangling for time between administration and studies I had for the most parts, opted to freelance so as to pursue my studies, though it meant foregoing the stability of a salary and medical or other benefits and usually resulted in putting in more hours than most just to meet basic expenses. I was handed an ultimatum that with proposed cuts in freelance budget, to accept a staff position, or else. It would confine me to the editor’s hat, seat and office, though I had little aspiration or ambition or inclination to hold office as has been my modus operandi.
And some months later, here I am, discussing the future of the media business with the emperor of Caribbean media himself.
Sipping tea and pouring over the Board’s proposal, Mr Sabga was anything but emperor-like in his humble demeanour and eager excitement to explore what is before him and the way forward.
There are elements in the Board’s proposal that disturbs his pragmatism, as they do mine, on which he invited my opinion, attentively. The discussions might have gripped him because he spent more than his allocated time, and I was invited back to continue those discussions, and then invited back again. It was by this I gathered that Mr Sabga is also genuinely pained at the brand that wears him – that is perceptions of his interference in the editorial operations of the newspaper. He exhibited a keen interest in creating the necessary bridges to transport his vision for change into institutional mechanisms and actions.
It is just before the Guardian’s transitioning from a broadsheet into a tabloid sized publication. In fact, what’s before him and the reason he invited me to discuss with him is what became the interim measure – the Board’s decision to establish a new tabloid-sized newspaper and considerations of its management. The new newspaper would come to be known in all of its short-lived few months as The Wire and would function as the since defunct Evening News which was an earlier daily publication of The Guardian that captured unfolding news of the day and was released by early afternoon to coexist with the broadsheet. There was only one other tabloid daily at the time.    
Its rationale seems to be to create a rival for the two tabloid-sized competitors, while insulating the core traditional readers of the broadsheet Guardian. As I pointed out what I thought was the obvious as he too was already foreseeing a fourth newspaper as competition - to, not just the daily tabloids that were already the Guardian’s main competitors, but as a potential competitor to the Guardian itself.
The company was investing heavily in new equipment and office infrastructure to facilitate production of its proposed tabloid. I pointed out the continuing imbalance in the investment in equipment and building structures rather than human resources and the need for similar investment in attracting and upgrading the skills of those producing the news and actions that may improve the level of working morale in the company that had been trending downward for some time. I suggested some similar investments to attract and upgrade the skills of those producing the news.
His thoughts on a school of journalism surfaced and we discussed the challenges of education, as I pointed out the limitations of journalists’ access to education opportunities, the absence of a friendly environment that allow time to pursue education as well as the potential locally relevant curriculum.
The discussion turned to my own relentless preoccupation, as it seems was also one of his - nature of news and the role of the media as an agent of change and transformation and in shaping the social, economic and political culture and climate. It is then almost two decades since my entry into journalism, at the Guardian, where I cut my journalistic tooth, so to speak. It is just about a decade since - for reasons that would be explored later - I had joined the team that started what would become its competitor, Newsday.
Newsday came on the scene amidst public outcry about increasing sensationalism and highly negative nature of the news of the day, imbalance in reporting, lack of critical interrogation and investigation and its resulting impact on habits and behaviours and had among its intentions as the third daily, good news. I was labelled its Good News Reporter, with the first lead story, ‘5000 Lives Saved’ (by the suicide hotline – the high levels of suicide attempts being a reflection of the mental state of the society) and focused on uplifting features that focused on social achievements and accomplishments of people and institutions in every sphere. Such intention was good in itself, but in a twist to the old adage that ‘no news is good news’, the Newsday Board’s decision that ‘good news is no news’ a few months later, ensured that Newsday’s good news endeavors would be as short-lived as The Wire’s run later would be – albeit The Wire touted no such pretensions to piety.
Instead of good news, Newsday devoted itself to establishing a brand as the number one town crier on crime, making mimics of the others trying to catch up with its overnight success, including the Guardian. Many of the founding editorial entities of Newsday were retired or former employees of the Guardian, including the now deceased Therese Mills, and my early editor John Babb who invited me to join the start-up team, but more on that later.
Somewhere in the decade between the founding of The Wire which is now the focus of attention of Mr Sabga, and the founding of Newsday, is the spurt that saw, also to be shortlived, and now defunct, the birth and demise of the Independent newspaper, built on the sceptre or specter – deciding on which side of social truth one sits – of Mr Sabga brandishing a newspaper to some of the editorial team at the Guardian, their exit, and retaliation with production of this short-lived Independent.
Within, there is another interlude of huff and puff over the Green Paper on Media Reform, piloted by the then Government that drew the ire of the journalistic community, fed by some elements not too friendly to the administration, in a manner that is yet to be replicated despite now the piloting of several pieces of legislation with pernicious implications to the privacy and rights and freedoms of not only journalists, but all citizens in the context of new media, the internet, and new trends in media online media and citizen journalism over which one hears little more than a whimper – if any stirrings at all.
I make no apologies for so describing what many of my colleagues may cite as pivotal to their career achievements in the field. These episodes may be mere footnotes to the history of media in Trinidad and Tobago and the Caribbean to the longest surviving media entity, in its centenary year. Huff and puff it was as the brief spurts resulted in little, if any constructive long term solutions and actions that would have stabilised the media environment and put it on firmer footing to confront the much larger impending challenges, being experienced today. Of course, without a consistently discerning and objective media, the general undercurrents, prejudices and entanglements of the society of the day coloured many of the issues and steered it in the directions it took. Where critique is absorbed by thin skins and fatter egos as synonymous with criticism, I had boldly identified some of these in an analysis and critique of the Green Paper on Media Reform, partly represented in the article entitled ‘Of Lies, Half Truths and Innuendos’ (the title is drawn from the criticism of the media by the Prime Minister of the Day, Basdeo Panday; that is two decades before the emergence of Trumpian 'post truths'):
“Nowhere in the Green Paper is there an holistic attempt to address that relationship between the power centres” (identified in the Green Paper as government, the media and the law - visibly absent: corporate power). The elephant in the room remains – now as then - many of the core issues that hinge on the nature of our small island and its politics, cultural, social and corporate underpinnings, manoeuverings by perceived power centres – that is historic mistrust, prejudice, and the powerlessness of those perceived power centres .
A society that can only interpret itself in black and white, we and them, can hardly fathom the diverse shades of greys and other rainbow tones in its social relations, interactions and reactions, nor does it possess the courage to delve into or treat with scrutiny, nor engage in self-scrutiny, and address critiques of the impulses that motivate its actions and reactions to change.
More insistent to me has been the lack of  - ironically even within the media, and such other public institutions of education and ideas exchange - maturity in the culture of engagement and lack of mechanisms for “on-going debates and discussions” identified in the critique that may cultivate a culture of respect for and appreciation of the value of contestations of diverse ideas and opinions as essential and foundational to a creative and visionary democracy. The inability of not just the media, but any of our institutions to solidify social and other upheavals into policy, institutional frames, and have such learnings filter into practice whether in education, law, media, politics or otherwise, was my concern then as it has been in promoting my branching out of the confines of conventional media to working to craft international global policy on the same, to here, penning this.
“The alternative (to such mechanisms of strengthened democracy) – the imposition of zip-lipped regulations – threaten to churn up mistrusts, antagonisms and betrayals, even among seemingly close friends and those trusted as protectors,” my assessment then read. 
That remains the elephant in the room as is the role of media as a credible voice of the people – not just as the voice of the corporate or the political-flavor-of-the-day, interests or ethics, in the way that the State positions its power appropriated by politicians to their convenience (that is to make or break laws).
Though certainly aware of how some of the media huffs and puffs issues that surface seem supremely significant to the players and actors in the moment, in the longer view of history and social contexts, many become and is treated here as merely anecdotal because that becomes the big picture when one considers the longer time frame of history - that I began exploring in my dissertation and first book Finding a Place, that places the growth and development of journalism as pivotal to social, political, cultural and literary adaptation and evolution and the formation of a society out of diverse elements; a society that is defined by its small island nature and multicultural character.
In this context, even the Guardian’s and Mr Sabga’s near centenary (about half a century of which involved his exploits in media) may seem also just an interlude, if more than a chapter – but sadly, one in which there seem to be little interest for self-reflection and examination as a means of charting a course forward.
For society and fraternity that places little value on its history or knowledge of its history – and perhaps considers reflections like these little more that self-indulgent ramblings - I would hesitate to say that the rest is history as so little of even that contemporary history is known to core actors, much less have any of it been examined, objectively.
Mr Sabga emerged from the incidents surrounding threats to media freedom considerably scarred, which his opening statement to me implied, or rather his brand was scarred. Those who know him perhaps recognise the veracity of this introspection, as he displayed significant concern at the state of the society and the potential role of media and his empire to carve a part through it, though as one of the captains of industry and as he is identified and as a ‘pillar’ in the society, there remain sufficient grounds for skepticism. 
And that provides evidence for the central dilemma and my preoccupation here with the underlying sense of disempowerment - even by those within the power centres - or lack of creativity in ‘harnessing the elixir’ to bridge the gaps between vision and action and to establish and fuel and ensure longevity to institutions, mechanisms and programmes for sustainable social transformation.
Part of the social frustration of vision-fulfillment may be the inability to move beyond ideas harvesting - in the way this blog is combed by incognito readers; Part is also the inability to cull and provide necessary support to those executives who can transform vision into action. Or perhaps it is the ingrained social and cultural practices and conditioning that facilitate those who land such positions to effect change are not the ones equipped to effectively do so. They are placed in decision making positions not so much on the basis of merit but on those other factors that make decision-making in a small island almost pathologically incestuous in many senses of the word – the entangled web of familial, social and political and religious and cultural allegiances and the circles and clubs that bind even the most well-meaning of visionaries into a web of inaction and inertia and forces the less society to belief that the only way change may be effected is through violence and violent or revolutionary reaction.
The sessions with Mr Sabga were informal talks, and not geared to any conclusive decision making, it seems – as many of our most incisive social interrogations seem to be, testimony to my observation of the lack of streamlined mechanism to harness vision and ideas to fulfill goals and objectives.
What ensued would be twists and turns in social engineering on which may be hinged some of the contemporary social catastrophes we now face.
When the history is read on the path taken, as irrational as its rationale seemed to be, and as anticipated, The Wire was birthed and expired, for the reasons that were also anticipated, and at considerable costs and disruptions that may have been better directed to the improvements for the profession. Does it have resonance of the culture of public sector spending and accountability as well? Culture, whether in private or public or NGO or media or academic sectors in all pervasive and invasive The lifespan of The Wire was a little more than the time it takes to say Anthony Norman Sabga.
No elements of the society, nor the corporate world, nor the media, nor journalism seems to have profited or benefited from the degree of energies and creativity expended in this breath of ‘winds of change.’
And we continue to reap the whirlwind.
The newspaper and its expanding spheres into radio and later television continue to suffer from deficiencies in quality journalism and adequate staff motivated and contented to pursue the profession for its esoteric value rather than exoteric trappings, whose only form of leverage is the mad merry-go-round of negotiating minutely higher salaries or perks by a continuous hop skip and jump from one media entity to the other, itself contributing to the state of flux, and ricocheting the unraveling of the social fabric in ways that we never care to make connections – For example, with the influx of the new grasshopper-type mentality, the kind of early environment of community and loyalties on which I had been nurtured in my early days at the Guardian was already disintegrating.
One doesn’t need a crystal ball - which some say my krystal bowl – to recognize that Mr Sabga’s vision for the proposed school for journalism which we discussed then, like the aspiration for the media entities in his empire, may take on form and structure, but may head into to a similar dead end when it comes to meeting anticipated goals and objectives with resulting minimal social impact or realization of its aspirant’s intentions, if conducted in the current mindset, conditions, climate and culture which drives our social actions interactions and reactions and that pervade our social institutions, especially the ones in which it is lodged.
Realizing this vision for social transformation will not materialize on its own. It must come from harnessing the vision, passion and a drive from within our social, economic and political sectors, and distilling and distributing it (much like the furniture and appliances Mr Sabga so distributed that set him on his path to successful business endeavours).
That is the challenge to the inheritors of his empire, and the benchmark on which the uses of his success and legacy will be assessed. 

RSVPs and Genuine Regrets
As an epilogue, rather than go the merry go round of media management, I thrust out on my own quest to learn and to build social capital through other social mechanisms – education and empowerment for which the understanding of media, engagement and outreach is also pivotal.
I heard of occasions in which Mr Sabga – who is said to have scrutinised and read every paper from cover to cover - with his own insights, comparing them to competitors - has chuckled with delight at my audacious writings that take to task leaders and office holders while leading elements in the society reeled and grasped and pressured the powers to take action – which they tried. 
It becomes more than a business culture that assess achievement on the basis of profit line, or a lack of understand of media in its role to shape a social conscience.
It is the shortsightedness of the value of the intangible and elusive elixirs of human fulfillment.
I encountered Mr Sabga, some years later, walking through the halls of another of his entities while addressing an insurance matter. He waves me over with the hug of a long lost friend and declares heartily: 
‘Eh Eh, Kris, you abandon me’. I greeted and hugged him, laughing that ‘I haven’t abandoned you. I think it is the other way around’. He promises an 'RSVP'.
I saw him a couple years later, still alert and still warm and cordial in his greeting, but less active.
There is other precedent too, I would learn, to these interludes with Mr Sabga. One relates to the now deceased Therese Mills, whom I had succeeded as Editor of the Sunday Guardian, and whom I had joined in starting Newsday. In her Memoirs - to which I am privy having encouraged her in our days at Newsday to write it, but which the public may never see given the current state of litigious contention among her relatives,
she reminisces on an invitation to coffee by Mr Sabga following what she describes as being somewhat unceremonious replaced as Editor in Chief by the then powers, and similar unceremonious dismissal of the previous Editor-in Chief Mr Lenn Chongsing (a yet different set of powers) whom she replaced and the overlooking of the long-serving Mr Carl Jacobs. These were my early mentors and the model and pattern of treatment guided my decisions on my my future. 
Therese claims to have enjoyed a long and very pleasant relationship based on mutual respect with Mr Sabga. “There was genuine regret in his voice,” she states of his invitation to her to have coffee following her replacement, again intimating that he had no prior knowledge of those decisions and actions.
While the man is mourned; we continue to mourn the deteriorating state of a democracy in which the weaknesses in media is no small measure a contributor, as are the disintegration of corporate, education, judicial and legal and political value systems, fraying at the ends and collapsing at the centre, yet all perceived to be the power centres of our social being and body politic in a spiraling condition of dispossession within a culture of powerlessness.

For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind: it hath no stalk: the bud shall yield no meal: if so be it yield, the strangers shall swallow it up.

Harvesting the whirlwind. It may well remain the status quo until we establish social frameworks on a platform for equity that promote an environment of respect, appreciation and value of knowledge and experiences, grow mechanisms for social discourse - however contentious they may be so - as to provide for changing the culture of business, corporate practice, finance management, social engagement and discourse, politics, policy and legislation making and implementation, education and transmission that can form the bridge between vision and action for implementation of those intangible profits that a society can show as hallmarks of its progress.
In essence, the reach remains the cultivation of value for the intangible and elusive elixirs that are the ultimate hallmark of human fulfillment. 
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for? RIP Dr Anthony N Sabga.

But do not let us quarrel any more…
The sudden blood of these men! at a word—
Praise them, it boils, or blame them, it boils too.
I, painting from myself and to myself,
Know what I do, am unmoved by men's blame
Or their praise either. Somebody remarks
Morello's outline there is wrongly traced,
His hue mistaken; what of that? or else,
Rightly traced and well ordered; what of that?
Speak as they please, what does the mountain care?
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for? (Robert Browning, Andrea del Sarto)
  
World Press Freedom Day 2017 as significant to introspection of the state and status of the media and freedom of expression, that is also the day of the passing of business magnate and media mogul Anthony N Sabga, prompts this introspection on a century of journalism, and some intense discussions with Mr Sabga and others on the role, responsibilities, functions and future of media in our society and the media dimension of the ANSA McAl Group, the conglomerate he founded by amalgamating three of the countries most established business entities.
Dr Kris Rampersad is an independent journalist, author and sustainable development educator and facilitator, of no fixed place of abode. Find more: Facebook: Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram

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New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age - Demokrissy
Jan 09, 2012 New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age | The Communication Initiative Network. New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age | The Communication Initiative Network. Posted by Kris Rampersad ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: T&T politics: A new direction? - Caribbean360 Oct 01, 2010 http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Oct 20, 2013 Choosing the Emperor's New Troops. The dilemma of choice. Voting is supposed to be an exercise in thoughtful, studied choice. Local government is the foundation for good governance so even if one wants to reform the ... http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Old Casked Rum: The Emperor's New Tools#1 - Demokrissy - Blogger
Apr 07, 2013 Old Casked Rum: The Emperor's New Tools#1 - Towards Constitutional Reform in T&T. So we've had the rounds of consultations on Constitutional Reform? Are we any wiser? Do we have a sense of direction that will drive ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Valuing Carnival The Emperor's New Tools#2
Apr 30, 2013 Valuing Carnival The Emperor's New Tools#2....http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
See Also:
Demokrissy: Winds of Political Change - Dawn of T&T's Arab Spring
Jul 30, 2013 Wherever these breezes have passed, they have left in their wake wide ranging social and political changes: one the one hand toppling long time leaders with rising decibels from previously suppressed peoples demanding a ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Reform, Conform, Perform or None of the Above cross ...
Oct 25, 2013 Some 50 percent did not vote. The local government elections results lends further proof of the discussion began in Clash of Political Cultures: Cultural Diversity and Minority Politics in Trinidad and Tobago in Through The ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Sounds of a party - a political party
Oct 14, 2013 They are announcing some political meeting or the other; and begging for my vote, and meh road still aint fix though I hear all parts getting box drains and thing, so I vex. So peeps, you know I am a sceptic so help me decide. http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: T&T Constitution the culprit | The Trinidad Guardian
Jun 15, 2010 T&T Constitution the culprit | The Trinidad Guardian · T&T Constitution the culprit | The Trinidad Guardian. Posted by Kris Rampersad at 8:20 AM · Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Related:
Demokrissy: To vote, just how we party … Towards culturally ...
Apr 30, 2010 'How we vote is not how we party.' At 'all inclusive' fetes and other forums, we nod in inebriated wisdom to calypsonian David Rudder's elucidation of the paradoxical political vs. social realities of Trinidad and Tobago. http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: DEADLOCK: Sign of things to come
Oct 29, 2013 An indication that unless we devise innovative ways to address representation of our diversity, we will find ourselves in various forms of deadlock at the polls that throw us into a spiral of political tug of war albeit with not just ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: The human face of constitutional reform
Oct 16, 2013 Sheilah was clearly and sharply articulating the deficiencies in governmesaw her: a tinymite elderly woman, gracefully wrinkled, deeply over with concerns about political and institutional stagnation but brimming over with ... http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Trini politics is d best
Oct 21, 2013 Ain't Trini politics d BEST! Nobody fighting because they lose. All parties claiming victory, all voting citizens won! That's what make we Carnival d best street party in the world. Everyone are winners because we all like ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age - Demokrissy
Jan 09, 2012 New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age | The Communication Initiative Network. New Media, New Civil Society, and Politics in a New Age | The Communication Initiative Network. Posted by Kris Rampersad ...http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: T&T politics: A new direction? - Caribbean360 Oct 01, 2010 http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Others: Demokrissy: Old Casked Rum: The Emperor's New Tools#1 ...
Apr 07, 2013
Old Casked Rum: The Emperor's New Tools#1 - Towards Constitutional Reform in T&T. So we've had the rounds of consultations on Constitutional Reform? Are we any wiser? Do we have a sense of direction that will drive ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Valuing Carnival The Emperor's New Tools#2
Apr 30, 2013
Valuing Carnival The Emperor's New Tools#2. 
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Wave a flag for a party rag...Choosing the Emperor's New ...
Oct 20, 2013
Choosing the Emperor's New Troops. The dilemma of choice. Voting is supposed to be an ... Old Casked Rum: The Emperor's New Tools#1 - Towards Constitutional Reform in T&T. Posted by Kris Rampersad at 10:36 AM ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Carnivalising the Constitution People Power ...
Feb 26, 2014
This Demokrissy series, The Emperor's New Tools, continues and builds on the analysis of evolution in our governance, begun in the introduction to my book, Through the Political Glass Ceiling (2010): The Clash of Political ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Envisioning outside-the-island-box ... - Demokrissy - Blogger
Feb 10, 2014
This Demokrissy series, The Emperor's New Tools, continues and builds on the analysis of evolution in our governance, begun in the introduction to my book, Through the Political Glass Ceiling (2010): The Clash of Political ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Futuring the Post-2015 UNESCO Agenda
Apr 22, 2014
It is placing increasing pressure for erasure of barriers of geography, age, ethnicity, gender, cultures and other sectoral interests, and in utilising the tools placed at our disposal to access our accumulate knowledge and technologies towards eroding these superficial barriers. In this context, we believe that the work of UNESCO remains significant and relevant and that UNESCO is indeed the institution best positioned to consolidate the ..... The Emperor's New Tools ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Demokrissy: Cutting edge journalism
Jun 15, 2010
The Emperor's New Tools. Loading... AddThis. Bookmark and Share. Loading... Follow by Email. About Me. My Photo · Kris Rampersad. Media, Cultural and Literary Consultant, Facilitator, Educator and Practitioner. View my ...
http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/
Related Links: LiTTscapes at Greeenpeace: http://kris-rampersad.blogspot.com/2014/05/littscapes-at-greenpeace.html
Demokrissy: Wave a flag for a party rag...Choosing the Emperor's ...


@krisramp, +krisrampersad, @KrisRampersadTT, @lolleaves, 

Friday, April 21, 2017

Ah drinking babash in this Fo-Rum: Creative Enterprise We-Style For Sir Ken Robinson and the other imports

football and well-played alcohol
will break down every social wall
From WM Herbert, Handmade (for the World Summit of Arts and Culture,  Newcastle UK June 2006)

Dear Ken, Sir,
So a decade after we fo-rum together - because you know for sure we share more than the same initials and on the same programme at the World Summit of Arts and Culture in Newcastle when you got a taste of the stuff Trini creativity is made of - you coming for more, eh? On my home turf? Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sir Ken boy, ah hear they importing you to we soil – ‘cause nothing cyar hide in we choonkey lil island. Although we have no grapevine and grow no grapes, news, especially if iz some cochoor, spread like crop season bushfire.  The bacchanal and cankalang alone could drive ah woman to drink. Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
From the fire in meh wire ah hear they bringing you and some other boys, just like they bringing the IMF, to tell we about creativity and what to do with we education and how to do creative business and about creative enterprise. As if we don’t know how to do creative business. 
Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sir Ken boy, you think we Trinis don’t know creative business? You really don’t know how creative we could get with we rum! We could take next people rum and bottle it and say is we rum yes. A label over a label and look papaya - is your rum! That is how creative we could get, here, Sir Ken boy. You might want to use that in one of your speeches. 
Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
We have we own kind of creative economy too and creative accounting and management that is what they lorn in dem Institutes for higher, or hire, learning - I not sure which. They growing creative managers and we still hoping they go ripen into some leaders. Where else, eh, billions of dollars flowing in from oil, dey say, and all them oil business in billions of dollars debt and they not thinking bout diversifying they still waiting for the next oil boom, just like how as soon as Carnival done, they cyar wait fuh the next one.  Is like dat. That sounds like some creative sense to you? Oil tabanca to fill a tabantruck. And the lil artist and writer still balancing a budget and living without debt eh, so is tax and tax and tax we into debt and drink. Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sr Ken, I know you like to talk about enterprise. I could tell you about Enterprise. In fact I will show you, when you come.  In Enterprise dem boys know creative pursuits eh. Guns, drugs, murder and mayhem. Dey learn well. Wild wild west style just like in the movies they cyar practice they trigger-happiness in, cause we doh have ah movie industry. So is practice on the streets, day and night: bang! bang! Live movie action. Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sir Ken, remember the couple nail biting hours we shared watching the 2006 World Cup qualifiers in front of that screen in the Newcastle/Gateshead caterpillar they call the arts centre – we have one now too, we own arts centre that not only look like a caterpillar, it have caterpillars and other termites crawling all over too, right smack in front the Range as if to say is a bigger saga boy than the natural beauty of the Northern Range. Crumbling like all them institutions law, parliament, education, all crumbling at the beams from termites and parasites 'cause the centre cannot hold.  It open in 2009, three years after I return from the Summit, talk about cultural transference. You will see it when you come, if you get time to step out of the higher-at place they keeping you nah, I could take you on an eye-opening LiTTour - a Journey Through the Landscapes of Fiction - although it staring you in your face is all fiction eh, no truth in that at all at all.
Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sir Ken, boy, your visit really send me down memory lane. When we was watching that football match World Cup Qualifiers T&T vs UK 2006. I nearly chew-out the top of all meh fingers after that first goal, hoping that we boys would at least score one peeny-weeny goal against ye old Brits so I could ah tell the fo-rum the next day when I presenting on MAS Culture what mas do fuh we! Well-qualified to tell how we boys had some good babash that’s why they lick all-yuh good. Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
 But just how they rig the match and give we poor boys dat coonoomoonoo kindda liquor the Scots call ‘water of life’ ooskie, so the boys played like coonoomoonoos. Is no different nah, is just so they rig my presentation and I come with the best powerpoint with motion video of the winning 2006 most colourful wining Carnival girls inserted in powerpoint even before powerpoint had invented the movie insert feature – but the first world didn’t have the new software to run it, at least that is what they say, as if I could believe that the first world didn’t have the software and me from me from a teeny weeny backward banana boat island have this technology. Ah drinking babash, cause dey … 
Good thing I had a back-up plan and walk with me rum for the fo-rum in the NewCastle caterpillar, eh Sir Ken, boy. Because between you and me you never know how them boys would perform. But we could export real creative ways of managing football funds eh – arkse Jack, ah warn you, it go blow yuh mind. We creative fuh so. Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey…
That day at the summit when you and your boys stumbled out of the room, with two goals and well at least I scored with some ‘well-played alcohol’ – ask WM Herbert who made that poem for and on our fo-rum at the World Arts Summit where that line came from.
football and well-played alcohol
will break down every social wall
From WM Herbert, Handmade (for the World Summit of Arts and Culture,  Newcastle UK June 2006)
 Is we Trini rum he talking ‘bout! It is true we didn’t win the world football qualifying match, but we won the World Summit fete! Ah could tell you that because I had the creative intelligence to pack meh bottle ah rum for the fo-rum! You have to agree, that was pure genius to break down them social walls if not the glass ceiling, eh! And it look like I help T&T qualify too cause at last now we have you, Sir, come here and grace we with your knightly presence! After all the times I have to go to talk to fo-rums in all yuh first world, tho not here, eh, not here! But exchange is no robbery where creative enterprise is concerned eh. Now you understand? 
Ah drinking babash, cause dey…
Sir Ken boy, to tell you the truth, I really thought when I see the invitation from the World Summit on Arts and Culture to talk, and me name list next to yours on the programme, I thought that is why I was invited you know, to bring some Trini rum for the fo-rum, so is the first thing I pack. And 9/11 rules didn’t kick in yet so I could walk through immigration with it so bold face holding it in front me, waving it like the national flag and all them immigration and customs people through the Brit airport nodding and smiling maybe hoping for a sip.
Ah drinking babash cause dey
I couldn’t bring babash though. It was not just because of the airline rules and ye olde mercantilist impulse to make everything indigenous like we own way of making we own rum illegal. It is really because as a true daughter of the soil - eating dirt, as they say, cause breaking that glass ceiling tough boy - I holding on to me secret knowledge of babash-making because we like to keep we real creative stuff hidden in the backyard nah. Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey
They importing you and the boys to tell them how to be creative without a mind about parting with their creatively-earned foreign exchange – easy come easy go. 
Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey
Who knows more than me about how they killing creativity, eh, about passion eh, about living yuh talent, about multiple intelligences eh? Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey
Now we boys don’t have not even a peeny eeny bit of curiosity to know the secret knowledge of creating babash, after they kill the industry dead dead to feed a few pipers to play some foreign tune for them. Those who have a lil curiosity want to know for free, ask Spree, and still they wouldn’t listen. Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey
If you want to know how to kill Trini creativity – Sir Ken boy – I know that is yur pet subject and you want some local insights, I sharing, for free because in T&T the arts is a freeco thing, only to laugh for an evening comedy show, not to use to make education and law and social reengineering and to mean something to we in we own image. Nah.  We have to hide it and practice it in secret – like drinking babash.
Is not just the education system, nah, is how they stomp out we homemade rum and make it illegal – the same way they make we marriage traditions and drum beating traditions illegal, and plenty plenty thing that good for the grass roots – if yuh catch me drift – everything grass roots illegal here, even grass. Dat’s why nobody take on the law. It illegal to get married, it illegal to have sex, it illegal to smoke weed and still everybody doing it. Just like we have laws against murders, laws against incest, laws against violence and child abuse, laws against thiefing, and laws against all kinds ah thing – and that eh stop nobody! Ah drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
Maybe they think that as a daughter I shudda be tie up and tie de knot not realizing that is one old law – and who take on the law here anyway eh – get married at 12, 14, 16 - not me. I keep my focus on the instructions to go forth and multiply which I really thought mean go fly off on this trip and dat trip and multiply intelligence, with this idea and that idea, and follow this dream and that dream to teach people about creativity and cultural industries and how to reengineer education for self-esteem and to think for themselves and to value what they know and what they have and appreciate they multiple intelligences – I really thought that is what that meant yes: go forth and multiply.  Ah drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
I fly out because I didn’t want to be stripped of me self-respect, left wandering in the street like the lil ex-Mayor of Chaguanas, nah. We filling them lil girls head with ambition that a Woman’s Place is in the House of Parliament and some of the women we put in the top there only want your head cause they head filled with being part of the old boys’ club. Sisterhood dead dead. That is what happen when you put yourself up for public office here. You could turn into a raving lunatic if you don’t have a stash ah babash, yes arkse ex-Mayor Natasha.
Ah drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
As she find out too, it turns out, I was wrong and I should ah stay home and mind baby and leave them ambitions to the boys, like you, who they importing through the creative cultural foreign stock exchange and stick with me home made backyard country brew.
Ah drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
Although I not from the Caroni, like everybody else who come here by boat my ancestors get rum before they get pay, so this fo-rum thing in meh blood and I still could knock back a good few like any of the boys at any fo-rum, mano-y-mano, shatter the glass bottles if not the glass ceiling – you want a list ah the fo-rums in which I scored fo-rum after fo-rum: Newcastle, South Africa, India, Malaysia, France, Costa Rica, Brazil, Argentina, Belize, Jamaica, Colombia, Mexico, Barcelona, Scotland, Montreal … It reading like the World Cup qualifying list eh? 
Ah qualify for sure, drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
When you come ah go show you, Sir Ken, here at home we know where to find the real stuff. Is a small island, nah. Everybody know where to find babash or guns or drugs, or who kidnapping who for ransom and who planning to do for who, who doing prayers on who head, who is the boys dealing, and trading and stacking organs and orange juice in freezers – everybody and they lawyer know, but not the law – we call it creative blindness because if you know yuh could get you light out, just so just so. Ah drinking babash, ‘cause dey…
Sir Ken, you will find out for yourself, eh. Here, everybody done know everything ahready. All we want is a lil laugh and that’s why they invite you, so they could laugh a lil bit. They done know that culture is a song and a dance and a comedy show so everybody with a lil bit a creativity try to get into comedy because they have to eat. Plain and simple. Culture is not about intelligences and policy and curriculum development and conscience building, and social stability and inclusion and management, and business. You mad or what? And is best they hear it from you who doh really know dem so it could sound nice and distant and theoretical and academic. You would be fine. Dey wouldn’t cut the mike on you because you from foreign, as they do to me for talking the naked truth. Ah drinking Babash cause dey…

Sir Ken, you would have a great time. You go come; you go go back home and say what a nice people, who laugh plenty at all you jokes and make some ah they own jokes too, and the rum flow like water and the babash hiding in the back room and you get a nice bit a foreign exchange people here cyar even get to send they children who away to school. Ah drinking babash ‘cause dey
When you leave we could go back to blaming the old Brits for the mess we in although the Brits using we creativity to teach creativity, and we with we own independent institutions in we own self-determining nation – well is not we is dem to blame. Ah drinking babash, cause they…
If you want some fresh material, for Port of Spain or even for them TED Talks you know where to find me, eh Sir Ken, boy, and say how-do-you-do-to-me girl Lizzie eh, and me famalee, the royalings, and if you have luggage space take these letters I have for she, please 'cause ah cyar afford the postage stamps.
 Ah drinking babash, cause they…
If you want to know the rest of the refrain, arkse that Rumbunctious Rumraj.













World Summit repositions arts & culture
Clear role in governance and sustainability defined 
By Dr Kris Rampersad

football and well-played alcohol
will break down every social wall.
From WM Herbert, Handmade
(For the World Summit of Arts and Culture, June 2006)

If culture is to be defined as the product of human interactions,
the place of the human in a world traumatised by diminishing social, environmental, political and equitable economic relations was at the core of the World Summit on Arts and Culture.
Held in Newcastle/Gateshead, England from June 14 to 18, 2006 through sponsorship by the International Federation of Arts Councils and Culture Agencies, the Arts Council of England and the Commonwealth Foundation, the Summit saw arts and culture practitioners and activists in dialogue with policy makers, planners and supporters.
In keeping with the theme “transforming people, transforming lives,” some 500 Summit participants grappled with challenges of helping Governments and decision makers to recognise the position of culture and the arts in regenerating societies’ physical and social environments and economies. Effectively, they invited revision in conceptualisation, approaches, and methods that have so far dominated decision-making, which, in the general division of labour functions and responsibilities, have left regeneration and sustenance to the sciences, economics, politics and the hard-core world of doers - not dreamers.
Skepticism that the arts has a place in this isn’t altogether unfounded, given that artistic development has traditionally leaned on philanthropy, the generosity of supporters, donors, endowments, and other the like - polar opposites, surely, to, notions of sustainability.
But some 30 presenters outlined working examples of how, when well-directed, the cultural industries can sustain societies: from use of architecture to reduce delinquency in a district in Houston, to development of a district in Ethiopia by indigenous craft, to how the Carnival festival from Trinidad and Tobago has evolved to global proportions represented in some 150 countries around the world and involving a range of artistic talents and skills.  Participants were also exposed to the UK’s Creative Partnerships that effected regeneration through art, architecture, music, design, theatre and film. In Kielder, for example, art and architecture such as the Belvedere and Skyspace combine with the local landscape, riverscape and skyscape to bring the natural environment into sharper human focus, while encouraging environmental protection and reviving the district’s tourist economy.
From an unchallenged premise that more people participate in culture, than vote, the Summit asserted the potential of culture and the arts in providing for basic human needs of food, shelter and clothing, while retaining its traditional role in nourishing minds. In its easy capacity to support co-existence and accommodate divergent views, polar opposites, diversity and difference through its metaphors and similes, borrowings and samplings, and general artistry, arts and culture were seen to hold key solutions to minimizing the negative impact of the conflicts between economic development and sustainability, technological advancement and traditional practices, nature and nurture that result in social and economic inequalities, disempowerment, and ethnic strife.
The exchange of project and ideas for processes of execution, as well as methods of quantifying input and outputs from arts and culture-based projects were stimulating and inspiring. NewcastleGateshead proved the ideal incubator for this global mishmash of thinkers and doers.  De-hyphenated and brought together to create one of the world’s most successful stories of the potential of arts and culture for not only economic regeneration but social cohesion of “rival districts”, these districts are now joined by the hip, as it were, in the Sage Centre where the Summit was located. In all of this, participants found time to create a World Choir and a Summit Song, A Poem - an extract from which is cited above - a drama; share nail-biting moments of the FIFA World Cup, and take a sneak peak into Hollywood’s Hogsworth, through the hospitality of the Duchess of Northumberland at Alnwick Castle where parts of the JK Rowling’s Harry Potter movies were filmed.


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Friday, March 17, 2017

Nobel Tears of and for a Nobel Bard now Sower in the Skies Derek Walcott RIP

A Literary Life
I saw tears pouring down the cheeks of Derek Walcott. Twice. That is apart from the tears he evidently sheds digging into his personal and historical trauma to articulate our vision and aspirations for our society, our world.

On the first occasion, he is in immense distress and anguish. On the other occasion his are tears of immeasurable pleasure, joy and sense of accomplishment. Both times were in relation to his art. He was not acting: Private, personal emotion pouring out uncontrollably about his passion for his work, his art, the society that inspires, nurtures and receives it with disdain or with pride. Antithetical emotions conveyed in seemingly like expression, portrayed in the face of the same individual.
The two moments may well sum up the range and scope of the man, the artist, the playwright, the poet, the essayist, the dramatist, the human. They also sum up the pain and pleasure of piloting art in a society like ours.
“What does this society want, Kris, tell me”, Derek’s anguish had burst out. Tears brim in his eyes and over flow down his cheek. It is the year of our collaboration on the staging of Steel, the play he wrote and directed to celebrate the creative impulse of the region which manifests in the creation of the signatory percussion instrument birthed in the 20th century, the steelpan. It is also to celebrate the communities and people and socio-economic-political and cultural realities that spawned its birth and growth and the dreams and ambitions of those who created it. The play reflected the yearning for acceptance and appreciation for its emergence; acknowledgement of the impulses from which it springs, to provide the music it does: to seduce, charm, excite, admonish, cajole and the range of emotions and experiences music can provoke in us. 
A run and rerun of sold-out highly appreciative and applauding audiences had translated into an onslaught of deflating media reviews that Walcott. The emerging media tone was that not even the globally lauded Nobel Laureate Walcott, could capture and convey the Steelpan and steelband; that what he presented was farcical and a shadow of what the steelpan was and meant to the people who spawned it and the society that claimed it.
The weeks and months of careful auditioning the right talents for the right roles; the highly-temperamental rehearsals, flowing over with energy, buoyed by optimism, and the nightly audiences of packed Queen’s Hall and standing ovations evoked the tears that stuck in memory as what one may and should expect of our society despite the enormous passion and self-sacrifice to excel and help other's excel for one’s art. The moment would resonate over the years. 
That could have been my lament. But like Derek, I chose instead to turn the sigh into a song. Because there there is the flip side, to which I had front row seats to witness another tearful moment. This was the tears on the night of the awards ceremony held in his name and in tribute. Derek cried uncontrollably as he recognized a seven year-old who had entered our competition to attract writers.
I was asked by Albert Laveau, the Trinidad Theatre Workshop’s Creative Director, to manage the public and media outreach and engagement and publicity for the Workshop which Derek and Albert among others had founded in the 1950s. As the TTW was then working on the production of Steel, my role morphed into handling the full outreach and engagement portfolio for the play and related activities. The play had initially been launched some quarter century earlier in New York. This was its coming home. Derek, who took full control of the production, insisted on a meeting. Within minutes, the formalities and his acceptance of my role aside, our conversation turned to the literary arts and the common lament on the declining quality and quantity of new works.
 I am an optimist. The inhibiting factors that made quality writers and artist reticent in surfacing their work were many and I believed with encouragement and incentive some of those sitting on creditable work would surface. Perhaps an offer of prizes?
Derek immediately sparked. He pulled out his cheque book, wrote a cheque and said, “There. Let’s begin.” I was surprised at the immediate, enthusiastic and generous response. He set no conditions on how I may use his contribution. The next day I told him that it would go towards a literary prize.
Within days of public release of this, and a few strategic calls, I had a call from the General Manager of the Trinidad Hilton, Mr Ali Khan. He would match the contribution of Walcott with a similar sum, also to be used as I saw fit. In meeting again with Laveau and Walcott we decided it would be called the Trinidad Theatre Workshop's Fund for Literature and Drama. As word got around, First Citizen’s Bank also offered to match Derek's contribution which went towards the prize for Children's Fiction. The momentum built, and Business magnate Derek Chin of MovieTowne offered to pitch in a prize for film and we were able to satisfy Albert who pointed out that void in drama and script writing. By and by, after some cajoling, the University of the West Indies, later came in, which funds went towards a prize for poetry. The Hilton prize went to Children's fiction.
Within the month we had five prizes, that became known as the Trinidad Theatre Workshop Prizes for Literature, Drama and Film.
Recognising that the region had not in any significant way acknowledged Derek Walcott’s win of the Nobel Prize for Literature some thirteen years earlier, I proposed A Year of Derek Walcott. After all we were in the year of the Laureate's 75th birthday which alone merited celebration. The proposal was accepted. Derek, of course, was modestly reticent, but the enthusiasm of Laveau and myself made his doubts insignificant. The Year of Celebrations would begin with the activities around Steel and culminate in the awards ceremony of the TTW Prizes for Literature, Drama and Film. I was now conceptualising, managing and executing the outreach on Steel, the TTW Competition for Literature, Drama and Film (including long fiction, short fiction, poetry, drama and short film script) and its Prizes and Awards Ceremony and A Year of Derek Walcott when he would celebrate his 75th Birthday - burning the candle on both ends. 
The literary world was abuzz. It created ripples across the region and beyond. Calls were coming in for Derek's Steel to tour other parts of the world; potential movie offers. The short script award became the precursor to MovieTowne's short film competition and festival and our activities inspired literary and other like festivals. Derek's fellow citizens of St Lucia, his birth country, were quick to point out that Trinidad and Tobago, Walcott’s adopted country, was staging A Year of Derek Walcott - a year! What was his birthplace St Lucia doing? It inspired St Lucia’s now annual staging of a Nobel Laureate Week - a week of Derek Walcott during the week of his birthday in January. Incidentally, he was born a month before my mom, of which I often jokingly reminded him, and proffered that she was single/widowed.  
Immersed in directing Steel, Derek would enquire about how we the competition was progressing. I kept him apprised of development and the pace of submissions. He was visibly touched by the interest and responses it had garnered from writers in all spheres and especially when I told him that one of the contenders was a seven year old who was making a bid for the short story prize.
Derek, Albert and I worked together on the programme for the night of the awards ceremony that will be called Evening Epic. I came up with the name, drawing from the title of his Nobel Lecture, "The Antilles  Fragments of Epic Memory."  Following Steel, the Laureate joined in preparing the programme, recommending pieces of his works that would be dramatized and sung.
Walcott held as a principle that actors and artistes should be paid for their work in a society that expects artists to live on air while giving souls to service. To return the favour, many with whom he had worked were willing to give of their time, skills and talent to pay tribute to an artist whose work spans two centuries. They included members of the cast and crew of Steel with pieces from various of his musicals: The enormously popular satirical The Joker of Seville; among them, which music was composed by the US phenomenal. The Joker was produced from Walcott's legendary association with  the US Walt MacDermot who had revolutionised american musicals in the rocking 60s.
At Evening Epic, the night of the awards ceremony of the TTW Prizes for Literature, Drama and Film, touched by the tributes, and the event which is also one his legacies, Derek cried. They were tears of joy. The tears unbridled when we asked that he present a special prize to the seven year old who was brave enough to make his submission to the competition.
Those tears were the counterpoint to many of his own laments about the region and our societies inertia and stagnation, the corruption, the narcissistic institutions crumbling at the seems the power mongering, the fraudsters and proponents of bogus festivals, and the neglect of the arts – "Hell is a place much like Port of Spain" (The Spoiler's Return); a place which he nevertheless unhesitatingly celebrates.

...Port of Spain, the sum of history, ,,,A downtown babel of shop signs and streets, mongrelized, polyglot, a ferment without a history, like heaven. Because that is what such a city is, in the New World, a writer's heaven.
...I was entitled to the feast of Husein, to the mirrors and crepe-paper temples of the Muslim epic, to the Chinese Dragon Dance, to the rites of that Sephardic Jewish synagogue that was once on Something Street. I am only one-eighth the writer I might have been had I contained all the fragmented languages of Trinidad.... This is Port of Spain to me, a city ideal in its commercial and human proportions, where a citizen is a walker and not a pedestrian, and this is how Athens may have been before it became a cultural echo. (Derek Walcott, Nobel Lecture, 1992)

If one believes in the potential of literature and its related arts to transform us and societies, one would have to conclude that there must be insufficient reading, understanding and internalization that could impact our individual and human condition.
Our lives become immersed in trying to resist the forces that threaten to have us degenerate into a mere 'cultural echo', even in the face of superlatively incisive vision and artistry of the likes of Derek Walcott and the enormous creative capacity we embody.
In his Nobel Lecture as Nobel Laureate for Literature in 1992, Walcott would turn to the most festering chasms of Caribbean society – the divisions that keep us from celebrating and revering ourselves and the peoples who make our society, pinning it on his experience as the outside ‘other’ at the celebrations of Ramleela, brought to Trinidad and Tobago by indentured immigrant labourers from India – an experience, he chastises himself, that was as much his to own, as any other of the identities he claims:
They believed in what they were playing, in the sacredness of the text, the validity of India, while I, out of the writer's habit, searched for some sense of elegy, of loss, even of degenerative mimicry in the happy faces of the boy-warriors or the heraldic profiles of the village princes. I was polluting the afternoon with doubt and with the patronage of admiration. I misread the event through a visual echo of History - the cane fields, indenture, the evocation of vanished armies, temples, and trumpeting elephants - when all around me there was quite the opposite: elation, delight in the boys' screams, in the sweets-stalls, in more and more costumed characters appearing; a delight of conviction, not loss. The name Felicity made sense…

Wind the clock back, to 1962 and the dawning of ours as nations newly independent of colonial rule. His search inwards takes him through the colonial journey from Africa, via Eurasia to the Caribbean., and as relevant then as it is in today's world of irrationalism, violent extremism, racism and terrorism. He writes in A Far Cry from Africa:
Statistics justify and scholars seize
The salients of colonial policy.
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?
To savages, expendable as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break
In a white dust of ibises whose cries
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn
From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is read
As natural law, but upright man
Seeks his divinity by inflicting pain.
….
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?

These experiences would inspire and buoy my own drive to grow, nurture, encourage and sustain literary appreciation through  the Leaves of Life initiative and the publication of LiTTscapes – Landscapes of Fiction from Trinidad and Tobago - which deviated in its presentation of prose fiction to also represent some of Walcott’s insights through poetry on our ‘scapes’ - and its associated activities of LiTTours – Journeys Through the Landscapes of Fiction; and LiTTributes – events that celebrate the literary artistic impulse in itsrelation to other arts in song, music, drama, costuming, cuisine, art and design, architecture, landscape, culture, festival and celebration, forging connections among us, and with other societies too - with LiTTribute to the Mainland - staged in Guyana, to LiTTribute to LondonTTown, and elsewhere.  LiTTribute to the Antilles that we staged in Antigua in fact sprang from Walcott's Nobel Lecture, The Antilles: Fragments of Epic Memory which had also inspired our Evening Epic, the award ceremony for literary prizes. His Nobel lecture I use to encourage comparative discourse to broaden our appreciation of ourselves, outlooks and perspectives on Caribbean society, with the Nobel Lecture of Sir Vidia Naipaul, Two Worlds our Trinidadian son who took the prized Nobel Laureate almost a decade after Walcott in 2001.
Derek would often cheekily ask after "the other guy" - ie the other Caribbean Nobel Laureate for Literature about whom he is known to have had some not too flattering pronouncements, especially as I have encouraged discussions on Literature and Caribbean Society comparing the two laureates in contexts of oral and literary development. This I had began exploring in my first book Finding A Place  the evolution of the multicultural milieu of migration and adaptation in a society and contexts of writers as Naipaul, who not unlike Walcott, has had his fair share of barbs and rejections and traumas from Caribbean society.  The 'alien' Felicity which Walcott describes in his Nobel Lecture is, I believe, not coincidentally, the home and birth landscape of VS Naipaul - elements of co-relationships that we are yet to explore with intellectual maturity and objectivity.         
To have shared in the depths of anguish and the heights of joy of one of the individuals who have labored  to help shape the global conscience of the previous and this centuries to be sensitive to small island realities were pivotal experiences in my awakening, awareness and appreciation of the place of my art, my life, my work, in a society like ours.  
Surrounded by paraphernalia from the productions, with the tears of anguish and of celebration, thank you Derek Walcott (January 23, 1930 to March 17, 2017)
Rest in Peace, Nobel Bard.
There are no more fitting words for an epitaph than what you have written yourself, with my most recent visitation from the sower:
There is a sower in the sky
That sows the seeds of stars
That sowers name is death my love
Who sows that we shall die
And if I die before you love
The harvest that I reap
Will be the memory of our love
Through everlasting sleep
In everlasting sleep, my love, in everlasting sleep
 Derek Walcott, The Joker of Seville





After several years of delay, the Trinidad Theatre Workshop’s long-awaited musical Steel is finally raring to go.
Written and directed by Nobel laureate Derek Walcott, Steel details the birth of pan.
In an interview, TTW publicist Dr Kris Rampersad said the show is scheduled to premiere on September 13 at Queen’s Hall.
She said repairs at Queen’s Hall and the venue being overbooked over the past few years were reasons for the delay.
Despite the hold-up, Rampersad sees Steel as the definitive musical on the rise of pan.
“A story on steelpan has never been done before on this scale, from the directing to the music to the stage,” she said.
Rampersad said she believed this musical was going to end the debate on pan in Trinidad by documenting everything from its birth and development to the clashes in the 1940s.
Rampersad’s confidence stems from the quality of the cast and the musical stewardship.
Besides Walcott’s directing, composer Galt MacDermot wrote the music for Steel and Gene Lawrence will serve as musical director.
MacDermot won a Tony Award for scoring Two Gentlemen of Verona.
He has written the music for other Walcott plays, such as The Charlatan, O Babylon and The Joker of Seville.
Leon Morenzie, TTW artistic director Albert Laveau, Conrad Parris, TTW veteran Nigel Scott, and singer Mavis John will all play roles in the musical.
Morenzie received a nomination by the US National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) for his role as Sam in Athol Fugard’s Master Harold and the Boys.
Born in Trinidad, Morenzie now lives in California and has worked on Broadway as the lead actor in The Leaf People.
Aside from appearing on sitcoms such as Martin and the Steve Harvey Show, he also served as a dialect coach for Don Cheadle and Sophie Okonedo in the movie Hotel Rwanda.
Baritone Brian Green is also carded to perform.
Green, who performed in Carnival Messiah, sang in 1999 with the National Opera of Wellington, New Zealand.
Artist Jackie Hinkson is responsible for designing the set.
Set in the Laventille-Belmont area, most of the action in Steel takes place in panyards.
Rampersad said pannists from Witco Desperadoes and Pandemonium would play as members of the fictional band “the Bandidos” during the show.
She also said Steel would help serve as a marketing tool for T&T’s culture.
With a current thrust towards cultural tourism, Rampersad said the idea was for T&T to serve as the launching pad for the musical, as Steel would be also performed internationally by the local ensemble.
She also reiterated that the show’s quality could never be in question.
“Derek Walcott settles for nothing but the best and he brooks no compromise. Steel can’t be anything less than perfect.”


http://legacy.guardian.co.tt/archives/2005-06-30/features1.html

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